


Light On Love

by Scavenge4Dreams



Series: Insomniac Dreaming [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable, Arc Reactor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Protective Steve, Romance, Sexual Content, Sleep Deprivation, Steve Feels, Sweet, Tony Feels, for Steve this time, just for variation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenge4Dreams/pseuds/Scavenge4Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony’s 3500 miles away. 6 hours ahead. Making Pepper proud.<br/>And Steve’s ringing him at 3am, yet insisting that nothing’s wrong….</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light On Love

_Paris, France._

_Friday, 9:12am._

* * *

 

Pepper was going to be very proud.

Here Tony was, awake at 9am, after six hours of – if not _overly successful-_ than at least sincerely attempted rest. 

He was on time, and by “On Time” he meant “ _standard time”,_ not “ _Tony Stark Time_ ”.

Properly attired in dove grey Armani and minus the ever present shades. He hadn’t even truly contemplated the Metallica t-shirt- _not_ _for very long anyway._

Poised and confident body language, a complete lack of fidgeting. His hands still, and more pointedly- _not_ fiddling with everything in reachable distance- although the coffee cup cradled between them was possibly a factor.

Brown eyes were bright, shining with palpable interest and intelligence, without the fog of fatigue or the shine of boredom.

Very mature and responsible, truly.

He had actually listened when Pepper had bemoaned the importance of this conference, although it hardly been necessary. After all, before the Avengers, before Ironman, there had always been Tony Stark, _Business Man,_ and no one could say that Stark Industries had diminished beneath his hand.

He was well aware the possible risk and reward involved in agreeing to fund new ventures and renegotiate the funding of current projects. A moment of inattention, something slips by and suddenly you’re down by several billion dollars, a whole lot of expected profit and your stock plummets. So- basically, inattention and carelessness = bad.

Which was why he was doing his utmost to actually pay attention to the corporate monkey hopping up and down on his high horse, regaling them with some mirror practiced speech about….

Damn.   And he’d been doing so well.

Tony tuned back into the conversation as subtly as possible – after all, he had a Pepper to make proud.

“…and in the interest of maximising the continued growth between Rees corporation and Stark industries, we propose that Star-“

His leg was vibrating.  _Huh._

Corporate Monkey or Vibrating Leg?

Well… There had to be a good reason his leg was vibrating- hadn’t there?

He slid his muted ‘ _SI S.Gold’_ phone from his trouser pocket, noting the stutter of the speaker and the rustle of clothes as the grouped business men and women levelled unimpressed gazes his way.

Ignoring his audience, he glanced down, a soft smile just gracing the corner of his mouth at the picture of Steve shining from the screen. After revealing that his favourite childhood cartoon had been Goofy, Clint had gotten in on the joke. The photo - Cap, decked out in his Goofy Dog pyjama pants and a matching grin, posing in an utterly ridiculous “thumbs up” stance, his blue eyes dancing at the cheesiness.   Stamped across the bottom was the caller ID “Captain-Goofy-Pants”.    

He really had to provide Clint with another source of amusement.

And Steve was calling him.

The phone buzzed again and Tony’s fingers hovered over ‘ _accept’_ , but a throat clearing drew his attention back to the silent room.  Back to business. Important, essential business.  Steve wasn’t calling on the emergency line, nor the Avengers line – he was just calling, and while Tony really, _really_ wanted to answer…

Being mature and responsible.

But… _Steve._

Torn, Tony’s gaze dropped back to the screen, just as it went black and the phone stilled into dormancy. And just like that the decision was taken from him- allowing him to settle back into the meeting with grace.

Only, he really, _really_ didn’t want to.

Be a responsible adult- a business man, ensuring the health of his company and make Pepper proud.

_Steve._

“Please, excuse me – Avengers business.”

* * *

 

Steve sighed as the ringing ceased and Tony’s voice echoed into their room, “ _You’ve reached the personal line of Tony Stark – aka, Ironman_. _I’m obviously not answering my phone. Leave a message and when I’m not doing something, or someone, more interesting I’ll get back to you._ ”

Dropping the phone onto the rumpled bedcover beside him, Steve flopped back into the mountain of pillows engulfing their bed.  Running a hand through his hair, he yawned and turned onto his side, dragging the closest pillow, to his chest in a bruising embrace, the deep red cotton not warm enough, nor soft enough against his skin.

He’d known Tony answering had been a long shot, in fact, he’d pretty much counted on it – he knew Tony was busy, had been all week and really hadn’t wanted to interrupt him. A moment of weakness had led him to pressing the contact button a moment ago, but in a way he was glad that his lover hadn’t answered. The last thing Tony needed was Steve calling him at work to moan about how much he missed him.

Even if it did feel like he’d let half of his heart jet set across the world without him.

Steve shook himself vigorously, throwing the pillow across the room as he sat up again. God, he was being such a sop- Tony had been gone less than four days and here Steve was calling him just to hear his voice…

And they’d spoken most days and every night.  Last night they’d been on the phone for hours- Steve shook his head fondly as he thought over the previous night’s phone call.

 

***Flashback – Thursday Night***

 

Steve settled into the threadbare sofa a little more, relaxing muscles he hadn’t realised were tense as the call engaged and Tony’s voice reached his waiting ears.

“Stop abusing my poor decrepit sofa with your musclebound body – really Steve, are you trying to make me jealous. If you are, it’s working.   Also, _my sofa-_ in the workshop…missing me, huh?” came the confident voice.

Steve grinned, _every time_. He was sure that JARVIS was spying for his creator, because Tony always correctly guessed where Steve was whenever they spoke.  “Your decrepit old sofa is a man eater – I just sat here for a moment to catch my breath after walking all the way down here and now I’m half devoured… ”

Tony laughed, and Steve could hear him shuffling about his motel room as he answered, “Firstly, It’s not a man-eater, it’s a man-trap…willing accomplice in my nefarious deeds. Secondly, the day you – Super-soldier mine – need to catch your breath after a five minute elevator ride, is the day Thor swears off pop tarts.  Besides, why else would you be in _my workshop?_ Admit it, you miss me…just a little. ”

“Nope – not a bit. Dummy on the other hand, misses you very much. That’s why I’m down here. Telling your abandoned baby’s that their Daddy still loves us and will be home soon.” Steve teased.

Rustling greeted his ears as Tony riffled through something and then he answered, Steve could hear the tell-tale sounds of talking through what he would guess was blueberry’s “Bucket of bolts – the lot of them…YES, DUMMY – I’M TALKING TO YOU! - ”

Steve reefed the phone away as Tony’s suddenly deafening voice filled the room. Once silence greeted him again, and shaking his head at the chirping ecstasy coming from Dummy’s charge station at the sound of his creators voice, the blond returned the phone to his ear and dryly said, “Really Tony, was that completely necessary? It’s what, midnight in Paris? You have neighbours, and not the Norse god or Hulk types…the mothers with baby’s and little children types.”

A snorted scoffing met his ears, “When they heard I was coming they cleared the entire floor – security reasons. Only my security detail within earshot – AND ANYTHING I CAN DO TO ANNOY MY GUN-TOTING BABYSISTE-”

“Tony. Stop irritating the help. I know you don’t like the fact that I insisted you have back up, but I’m, not to mention the rest of the team, quite glad that you aren’t by yourself should anything go down. ” Steve admonished softly, rolling his eyes as Tony grumbled in his ear at the enforced babysitters. He considered it a win that Tony hadn’t already ditched the security force, and that was probably only because Steve had threatened to have Maria Hill dog his every footstep if his security lost sight of him even once.

“Steve. Come on… It’s like having Merry and Pippin protect Aragorn. The thought and intention is appreciated I’m sure, but _they’re_ more likely to get hurt than me.  I’m Ironman.” Tony tried arguing, despite the argument having been closed down by Steve before he’d left three days ago.

Steve reminded him as such, “Did you just reference Lord of the Rin- Never mind. We’ve already discussed this and it’s as non-negotiable now as it was then. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t want you to have to. We’d be there if we could, but you’re alone over there right now. Besides – it’s more like 100 Merrys and Pippins to your Aragorn – and those Hobbits are fierce. ”

Tony snorted in amusement as he settled back into the comfortable banter, “Fine! Fine.  You win. GUN TOTING HOBBITS! Sorry- sorry…So. You don’t miss me? Not just a little? ”

Turning his face into the soft material, smelling engine oil, grease, musk and just a hint of sandalwood – warm and enticing and _Tony,_ Steve answered,“Not a bit.”

Laughing again, Tony replied “You can’t fool me Mr Rogers. I’ll get it out of you soon enough. ”

“I certainly hope so.” Was Steve’s reply.

It was silent for a moment; a comfortable still silence, with just the sound of soft breathing, the gentle rustle of plastic and the whir of the mechanics beyond Steve’s line of sight.

An indrawn breath heralded Tony’s breaking the silence as he asked, “What are the rest of our intrepid group up to? Thor wiped out this month’s supply of Pop Tarts yet? We really should ration him. I bet Bruce misses me. Well. Misses my mind anyway. Clint had better not have stolen the blankets off our bed again – He knows you’re too big. If I have to crawl around the ventilation shaft again when I get home…”

Steve laughed at the memory and grinned at the comeuppance Tony had served upon their archer, as he answered, “No, no – everything is peaceful here. Thor has only damaged three pieces of furniture and those ‘Unbreakable’ dining sets you bought him are great.  He’s only smashed one cup. Natasha confiscated Clint’s bow this morning, so we’re all treading lightly. He’s been sulking in the vents. We did try to tell him that shooting her Alan Rickman poster was possibly a bit of a colossally bad idea. Bruce is on movie pick tonight and he’s been humming what Natasha says is “Time Warp” all day, so I guess that’s in whatever they’re going to watch. Fury is probably regretting this already, bu-”

“What do you mean – they?” Tony interrupted him, the rustling stopping as he obviously turned his full attention to the conversation.

Nonplussed Steve asked, “What?” wondering what had caught Tony’s attention now.

“It’s Movie Night. I’d forgotten its Movie Night. You said “they” – you can’t miss Movie Night.” Tony explained, as if Steve should already know this.

The Captain shifted on the couch, a tiny smile lifting his mouth as he replied, “Yes Tony, I can. I’d rather talk to you.”

“And to think, you’re not missing me.  But really, Steve. You can’t miss ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’. I’d never forgive myself for being the cause of such a significant gap in your cultural immersion…go, watch. Be speechless.” Tony all but ordered.

Steve shifted uneasily, “I don’t want to watch anything- I just want be with you.”

He heard a faint thump through the phone line and then the familiar swish of silk over skin as Tony shed his sleep pants, saying, “Fine then – Just let me get dressed. I’m coming home for Movie Night. We’ll watch ‘Rocky Horror’ and then I’ll fly back…”

Steve laughed as he waylaid his partner’s rapid-tumble speech, “Tony! It’s already after midnight where you are. This movie’s, what, an hour and a half long? And then you’d have to fly back. You’ve got to work in the morning. It’s okay –”

 “Closer to two actually – but, no. You’re not missing Movie Night. I’m not missing Movie Night. Tony and Steve are doing The Avengers Movie Night. Just a second - I have an idea. ”

Steve heard a blast of sound and recognised it as the TV in Tony’s room being turned on and a second later a triumphant “Yes!” met his ears, “Of course they have it , It’s a classic – JARVIS, can you cue “Rocky Horror” in the workshop?.”

“Of course, Sir. Will the Black Screen suit, Captain?” Came the disembodied voice from above Steve. Answering affirmatively, Steve marvelled at the fact that Tony could give an order to JARVIS in Paris and JARVIS could obey it in New York.

“Right. Good – on my Mark, J…’ _mark_ ’” and the area before Steve flickered to life, the ‘Twentieth Century Fox’ logo spilling across the screen.

What followed would have to be among the strangest, yet most enjoyable 100minutes that Steve had ever encountered.

His eyes bugged out several times, and he roared laughing, although that was mostly attributed to Tony’s running commentary as his lover watched the movie along with him from an entirely different country.

Steve wasn’t a prude by any means, and certainly not as innocent as the press seemed to love to indicate. He had after all, been best friends with Bucky Barnes, been on the frontlines, surrounded by showgirls, and was dating Tony Stark. But the “Transvestite from Transsexual Transylvania” still had his eyebrows rising.

The ‘Time warp’ song was played three times, until Tony managed to coax Steve into singing along, mostly by he himself getting more horrendous and adorable with each pass through, forcing Steve to end the torture.

Tony had of course, met the ‘birth’ of Rocky with a striking comparison of “Hmm – Blond, blue eyed. Body like a god. I have to get me one of those.” and an inference of owning a pair of those gold shorts, and perhaps Steve might like to put on a little musical when Tony got home.

During the scene in which Janet and Brad had there wet clothes removed and Cloumbia made the comment, "It's too nice a job to rush."  - Tony had innocently piped up with – “So. Is now a good time to tell you that I’m not wearing anything?”

It was an, _experience_ …that Steve wasn’t ever likely to forget, but slowly the movie started to wind down, and so did Tony’s comments.  His rejoinders and mocking was softer, slower and Steve could hear the sleepiness hidden beneath them – after all, it was approaching 2am in Paris.

It was a distant second to having Tony warm and soft beside him, or all but curled into his lap, but a second none the less and Steve contented himself with listening to Tony breathing over the muted movie credits. 

And if Steve had spent the next hour listening to the slow breaths, smiling at the soft snuffles and soothing a half realised whimper with a barely there murmur, before disconnecting the call, then no one but Steve was to know.

***End Flashback***

 

And yet, here he was, barely six hours later and already craving Tony’s presence, his voice, his touch.  Tony hardly needed Steve interrupting him at work like some lovesick fool – He was busy, an important business man, with important business to conduct, and certainly no time to b-

“ _You are the one that I want…ooh ooh ooh honey, the one that I need, oh yes indeed…you are the one that I want!”_  Steve sat up immediately, eyes roaming to find the source of the song – his phone.

Scooping up the glowing device and ignoring the song, already knowing the culprit, Steve’s gaze lingered on the caller picture – Tony. 

It was one of Steve favourite photos, not the cultured, classy immaculate _Tony_ _Stark_ from the tabloids – this Tony was in sweats and a tattered “Get Your Rock On” shirt. It was Christmas, last year and as Tony had confessed - the first Christmas since he’d been five, that he’d been allowed, or bothered, to put up his own decorations.

All six of them had been decorating the tree in their “living room” – introducing Thor to the wonders of eggnog and “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” – when Tony had scrabbled headfirst into the huge box of expensive family heirloom decorations, so deep in fact, that he’d become stuck, Thor reaching over to drag him out.

He’d come up spluttering, hair a dishevelled mess, skin glistening with rubbed off glitter and strands of old tinsel clinging to him. Clutched triumphantly in one hand was a crystal star. Perhaps most noticeably, it was obviously a child’s work. A very fastidious, talented and creative child, but a child none the less.

Tony, obviously thrilled at having found the star, a memento that his parents had actually bothered to keep, had moved across to the tree, intent obvious. Only to realise that at 8”, the tip of the tree was out of his somewhere near 7.5” Standing reach.

“Well.  That’s just. -I’m going to get my boots.” He’d nodded once, determined and stepped towards the door.

Steve had tilted his head and wondered how the extra inch of Tony’s combat boots were going to help, when Natasha had reached out and dragged Tony back across the room with a scathing, “You are _not_ using your repulsors boots to decorate the tree. We actually want a tree, not a smouldering stump. ”

Obviously wanting to push the issue, but thinking it unwise to argue with Natasha on this particular point, Tony had slumped.  Crestfallen, although hiding it beneath good humoured sarcasm, he had handed the star off to Thor and taken a step backward, arms crossed defensively as he’d scowled at the tree.

Catching Thor’s pointed nod, Steve had grinned and swept in behind his lover, hands settling at his hips and had lifted him bodily from the floor – moving to the tree.

Tony had spluttered and slapped at Steve’s hands, “Steve – put me down! Put me d-”

Thor had pressed the star into Tony’s hands and Steve had ordered, “Tony. Put the star on the tree- or we’re going to have an angel instead.”

Grumbling, but not with any real heat, a truly pleased smile gracing his lips, Tony had reached up and set the star on the top most bough of the evergreen- and that was when Bruce had snapped the picture now gracing Steve’s phone.

Tony, arms up, star set just right.  A look of complete wonderment on his face, brown eyes bright with an unnamed emotion. If he looked carefully, Steve could make out his own fingers wrapped around Tony’s hips, splayed securely across the small band of exposed skin where Tony shirt had ridden up. He knew that it was at that exact moment that he’d pressed a kiss to the small of Tony’s back before setting him back on his feet.

And all underlined by the caller ID –“ _Lover Boy_ ”.   Clint again.

Before he could convince himself that it was better not to, Steve pressed the ‘Accept’ button.

* * *

 

“It’s 3am – you’re in bed. And the only bed you’d better be in is ours.” Tony greeted with.

The warm velvety voice washed over him and Steve immediately felt better, relaxing back into the soft bed as he answered, “Morning, love. Are you- I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important?”

Steve could hear a repeated soft thud and could picture Tony siting on some dividing partition somewhere, one leg swinging back and forth as he answered, and “More important than the man who isn’t missing me a bit? Never. It’s 3am in New York - What’s up? ”

Grimacing and swatting at the blanket folded haphazardly over his thigh Steve sighed. Now what? Erring on the side of caution, he answered, “Oh, nothing much.  I was just- I thought maybe you weren’t-”

Honestly, what was he going to say, _I just thought I’d waste your precious time by being a needy jackass._  Perhaps not. _“_ Never mind.  Just checking in.” he finished lamely _.  Because that doesn’t sound suss at all._

A beat of silence followed his comment and then Tony replied, all joviality gone from his voice, “Yeah – no. That’s not flying. What’s wrong?”

Steve cursed the fact that Tony apparently knew him as well as Steve knew Tony. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just - ” The problem was that Steve didn’t know exactly _what_ he was – well, he did, but it was nothing Tony could help with from 3500miles away and Steve wasn’t going to worry him needlessly.

“You’re just what? Being deliberately obtuse? Avoiding whatever it is _you_ called about? Well-?” Tony cajoled, half serious, and half joking.  

Steve cracked a small smile, but ran a finger over his forehead, trying to quell the building pressure. When stuck – redirect. “Well, technically, _you_ called _me._ What were you doing that you didn’t answer the firs-”

Tony’s huff brought him up short and Steve quelled a whimper as his head decided that it might be a nice time to start pounding. As a rule he didn’t really get headaches (other than those called _Tony_ ), the only real exception being when he was seriously over- oh _._

He was drawn from his introspection when Tony continued, “Are you seriously trying to change the subject on _me_ , your self-titled _‘Master of avoidance and misdirection’_? That is just so- perfect. Now. Spill. _’_ ”

Steve groaned, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Tony couldn’t do anything, he was in _Paris_ for god’s sake. It would just make them both feel like crap. “Tony– I’m seriously oka-”

Tony growled, a tiny little noise in the back of his throat and Steve felt an odd surge of affection at the adorable sound of frustration as well as a possibly a trifle of petty satisfaction at the turn of the tables. And then Tony spoke, “Right, Rogers. You’ve got 10 seconds to hit the video call button on your phone and show me your gorgeous lying face or I’m flying home right this second.”

Steve groaned, opened his mouth to argue and heard the sound of Tony getting to his feet. Go time.  

He hit the button and swivelled the phone.

* * *

 

Tony’s instant of triumph fled as he took in his lovers face. Steve – enhanced, always annoyingly heath and perky Steve with his beautiful perfect skin and gorgeous perfect eyes and ridiculously perfect hair on that heaven sent perfect body.  Where the hell was _that_ Steve?

Dark black circles hung beneath red rimmed eyes, the blue both more vibrant and cloudier than Tony had ever seen. Pale skin, ashy under a sheen of oil and bruise like shadows.  Golden hair a limp, flat caricature of itself.   _This_ Steve looked god-awful.

“Oh my god! Steve.  What the hell. Are you –? Where’s Bruce?! Are you sick- no…poisoned! You’ve been poisoned. Or Loki – I bet this is Loki!  I have to get home – I’m coming! Don’t- Just-” Tony was on his feet, already reaching for his suitcase.

Watching as Tony’s own face paled dramatically at the sight of him, Steve frowned, surely he didn’t look that bad! “Tony. Tony! Calm down… In fact, sit down. I’m okay. I’m fine – I swear. Just – relax for a second.”

Tony’s had apparently sat at his bequest, but he still looked very concerned as he replied, “Fine!  You don’t look fine.  You look terrible! Your eyes are all blood shot and you’ve got honest to god dark circles. You’re pale and-”

Slightly amused at how long it was taking Tony to put it together, Steve coaxed gently, “Yes Tony – I’m tired. Just tired. It’s probably a state you should recognise by now. I’ve seen this look on you a hundred times. ”

Blinking at the subtle jab, his panic was subdued as Tony took in the truth of Steve’s statement. His lover did look terrible, but not half dead like he’d seen at first glance. He could see the exhaustion, and almost snorted at the irony of the situation. How many times had Steve said the same thing to him - “Well, Mr Hypocrite.  Maybe you should - Oh I don’t know? Get some sleep!”

Steve, not much in the mood to be lectured on his sleeping habits by _Tony_ of all people, shot back, “Yes, love – because I’m doing this on purpose. I just suddenly decided that pushing myself beyond what I’m naturally capable of was a fantastic idea. I really like the look on you, so I thought I’d try it myse-”

Steve fell silent as he watched the hurt look fleetingly light Tony’s face, before being hidden beneath his walls and sighed, immediately apologising for the unplanned and unmeant attack, “Sorry, Love – I didn’t mean it. Sorry. I’m just tired. ”

Tony looked up and Steve smiled encouragingly at the small tilt of Tony’s lips – even going so far to blow his lover a kiss, cracking Tony up with his cheesy behaviour.  The billionaire settled again and asked the dreaded question, “So. Why can’t you sleep? Nightmares, Clint being a nuisance. Thor have Jane over again…”

Steve sniggered, although he wasn’t particularly looking forward to answering, because this was the part that would invariably make Tony feel guilty. Biting the bullet, the blond replied, “No, nothing like that. I’m not being woken up. I can’t actually _go_ to sleep. If anything, it’s because it’s _too_ quiet.”

Tony looked non plussed for a moment before repeating, “ _Too_ quiet. How can it be too-”

Sighing, Steve answered, “And too dark. And too –well. There’s just not enough… _you._ I guess.”

Tony raised an eyebrow as he contemplated what Steve was saying, but seemed intent on making Steve spell it out. Then his hand came up to settle over his arc reactor and a completely awed looked crossed his face, and Steve knew that Tony was getting what he wasn’t saying.

“You can’t sleep without the arc-reactor…without me?” Tony almost breathed the words and Steve wanted to know what he was thinking, but at the same time he really didn’t.

Tony only ever got those looks on his face when the genius realised something that totally stunned him. Like it was so far out of the realms of plausibility that he’d never even contemplated whether it was even possible.

This from the guy who invented a flying suit in a cave with a box of scraps.

And usually it damn near broke Steve’s heart.

When he’d proved to Tony that he found the arc reactor mesmerising and not disturbing or disgusting.

When he’d turned “I’m not going to leave”, into – “I’m not going to let you leave”.

When he’d said, “I love you” and - for the first time -Tony had realised he meant it.

All wonderful, perfect things for Tony to know. All things Steve felt he shouldn’t have had to prove _and he damned his friend Howard._

Steve wondered what was going on in Tony’s head – and if he’d ever find out.

* * *

 

Tony’s heart felt like it was beating too fast and his head was throbbing a slow, almost rhythmic beat to the tune of “He needs me.”

He needed Steve like breathing. Felt like all the air left the room when Steve did. Wanted to be with Steve all day, every day. See him, hear him, feel him. Needed him.    Even when Tony raged at his lovers overprotective streak, riled at his overbearing ‘Captainyness’, grew tired of his anger or quailed beneath his disappointment. And especially when he warmed beneath loving hands, soaked up freely offered praise, basked in the soft glow of affection and radiated in the enfolding love.   Even then – in every aspect, Tony _needed Steve_.

Yet he had wondered if Steve truly needed Tony.  He’s been told, by Bruce and Natasha and Steve himself countless times –but words.  Words were just words. This was physical longing. This was… physical proof. Steve _needed_ Tony.

“I’m coming home now.”  Tony announced.

Steve immediately disagreed “No. Tony, you’ve got to finish up what you’re doing there. It’s important. I’m fine. I’m okay. You’ll be home tomorrow afternoon and then I’ll get some sleep -”

Tony looked closely at Steve’s face on his screen, judging his sincerity before nodding once, a huge grin breaking free- his “lightbulb” grin.  “Okay – okay, I guess I’m almost done here anyway. And I want Pepper to be proud. But you take it easy, read a book or something. No sparring – _please._ ”

Steve nodded his agreement, to be honest he didn’t really feel up to sparring, and if it reassured Tony, well, everyone’s a winner.

Still looking at his lover’s image in the phone, Tony sighed in relief as he added, “Thanks. I don’t want anything to happen to you because I wasn’-”

Steve sighed, _and that’s the guilt._  He was quick to interrupt, “No Tony. This is in no way your fault or your responsibility.  I‘ll be careful, and I’ll be safe here in bed when you get home tomorrow night.  I promise. Now, tell me you love me and then go back to work.”

Tony laughed softly but answered dutifully, “You love me and then go back to work”

Grinning unabashedly Steve answered, “You’re right. I do love you, smartass. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nodding Tony moved to hang up his phone and then pause to ask, “Steve?”

“Yeah?” came Steve’s patient reply.

Tony’s grin became Cheshire like as he asked, “ _Are you sure you don’t miss me? Not just a little?_ ”

Steve, face straight, answered, “Not a bit”.

Shaking his head with a long-suffering smile, Tony added, “Love you.” and then hung up.

Steve looked down at the dark screen of the phone for an instant more, before he settled back into the pillows, feeling lighter than he had all week, despite the crushing headache and clinging fatigue.

* * *

 

His phone chirped.

It had only been 10 minutes since he’d hung up with Tony, what now? If it was another filthy joke from Clint…

It wasn’t.  It was from Tony.

A message, with a video attachment.

_Play on repeat until I come home. Love._

Stabbing a blunt finger at the attachment, Steve gasped as electric blue shone from the screen, accompanied by the soft whir that only Tony’s reactor made.

Tony had recorded his arc reactor for Steve.

God he loved that man.

Rolling to his side, red pillow once again clutched close, Steve pressed repeat and closed his eyes, doing his best to imagine the pillow with firm angles and soft plains, warmer and cooler at once, and breathing.

He fell into a light doze, the soft glow of arc reactor beneath his fingers, despite Tony being miles away.

* * *

 

Leaning against the bathroom sink, Tony buttoned his shirt and pulled his jacket back on.  He headed back into the hall and towards his meeting.

He’d done what he could for now, and Steve would be fine until he got home.

Time to do the responsible and mature thing.

Time to make Pepper proud.

He strolled back into the room at a nonchalant lope, as if the main card holder hadn’t been missing from the game for the past half hour.

He looked to the corporate monkey and said, “My apologies. Please have a seat. I like you. I like your corporation. And I like the money you make. SI agrees to a .2% increase of funding over four years, with an additional .2% should your company return the desired dividends. Thanks for playing. Gotta go. Avengers business.”

And turning, he walked out.

After all, what was more mature and responsible than caring for the ones he loved?

Pepper would be proud.

* * *

 

It was just after 10 am when he powered up the suit, kicking into the air with his usual enthusiasm. He was home by four thirty the previous morning.

God he loved time differences.

Although not as much as he loved the suit, and its ability to hit Mach 8 without breaking a sweat.

Walking through the disassembler, Tony spoke softly, “JARVIS – please install audio file 912 in penthouse two…entwine audio file 67. Segment Illume from Vid 19. Enfold in penthouse 2 file…weave and lock down.”

“Very well- Calibrating file, Sir –May I enquire as to your early return? Shall I cancel the return jet?” came the cultured tones of the AI.

Tony answered as he strode into the penthouse suite, toeing of his shoes by the door “Just needed at home J. Don’t worry about the jet, I gifted it to the ambassador.”

Tony fell silent as he stepped into their bedroom, already stripping off his jacket, and tie, eyes taking in the barely illuminated form of Steve sprawled on his back across their bed in a tumble of glorious skin and muscle.  The soft even breaths indicated that the super soldier was asleep, and that he hadn’t stirred at Tony’s entry said just how tired he was.

Dragging his shirt off lit their room with the soft blue of the true reactor and Tony stepped closer. Moving to kneel by the head of the bed, peering closely at Steve’s peaceful face, Tony coaxed quietly, “Hey.  Hey you. Wake up – Steve?  Hello sleeping beauty - wakey wakey…Steve…”

He wasn’t going to risk startling Steve, having seen those battle hardened reflexes in action. There was no way he wanted to give Steve any cause to feel guilty for accidentally hurting him.  The gentle coaxing was enough though, and Tony smiled down into hazy blue eyes that near glowed, infused with arc-reactor blue, as they blinked lazily up at him.

“Tony?” came the sleep heavy query, as Steve pushed himself up in the bed a little, “Is it tomorrow already?” he added, confused.

Tony ducked his head as he replied, “Well – not exactly. It’s just over an hour since we spoke-”

Steve’s eyes cleared as he frowned a little, “You agreed to stay at your meeting. It was important Tony, what about Pepper?”

Tony met his eyes squarely this time, ashamed only of the untruth, not his actions, “You’re important too, and Pepper will be proud.”

Steve, seeing an argument that he’d never win, not even if he actually wanted to, simply capitulated with a sigh and turned to more important things, saying, “C’mere you” and reaching out, he swept Tony into his arms.

Pulling the smaller form across his own body, and pining him to the mattress on his far side, Steve loomed over his laughing lover.  Looking down into the warm brown gaze and soft smile, Steve wondered how it was he kept falling further in love, when he already loved Tony more than he’d thought possible.  He didn’t get long to wonder though, as Tony’s arms came up and curled around his neck, finger’s threading through the short hair at his nape.  

Moving further onto his side, Steve pressed a knee between Tony’s thigh’s, and using that to help support his weight, he shifted until he was balanced fully over his lover, and then willingly fell into the kiss Tony demanded with the pull of only his eyes.

The press of warmth and soft beneath his and then the shift, a tiny movement of lips, on neither his part, nor Tony’s – yet both.  Neither intended nor instinctual, but as necessary as breathing and with a soft whimper Tony’s mouth opened beneath his and _heat_ greeted his venturing tongue.

 

Hot and moist, tasting of mint and blueberry and _Tony_.  Someone moaned, Steve was pretty sure it had been himself, because Tony had sighed, a soft _coming home_ type sigh. Steve couldn’t agree more.

 

Hands tangled in his hair, deceptively strong in their grip, solid and there, with just a slight sting of pain beneath the all-consuming pleasure and Steve pressed the kiss further. Seeking further entry, further capitulation – total surrender.  Tony willingly gave, allowing Steve everything, his own tongue an echo of Steve’s own movements, not fighting for dominance as so often happened, but shadowing, submitting with just a faint hint of _tease._ Because Tony could never just give in.

 

Steve nipped his teeth at the mocking tongue and smiled into Tony’s mouth when his lover quickly retreated, only to gasp when Tony immediately followed up with a lightning fast retaliation – a twist and a flick of his tongue and Steve thrust gently against the warmth spread out beneath him, pleasure curling at Tony’s responding hiss.

 

Tony wasn’t the only one capable of stealthy retaliation – yet his deck was stacked with better option’s than Tony’s – a fact he proved when he pressed his knee forward, settling his naked thigh- rock hard and warm against Tony’s cotton covered groin.

 

Tony’s strangled whimper brought out only the best in Steve, and the blond rocked forward, once, twice- three times.   Tony’s whimpers were no longer strangled, but abandoned and loose as he bucked up against Steve, seeking the delicious agony of the friction when it eased away.

 

Steve delighted in the sinful gasps, smiling against the fully formed pout he could feel beneath his lips and he chuckled softy at the scowl that formed as he pulled away further.   Steve’s hand, heavy and hot as he palmed Tony through his trousers banished the scowl and brought back the whimpering gasps.

 

Tony’s own hands slid down Steve’s back, fingers finding every sensitive and responsive node and muscle on the way down, before settling on his hips with a gentle caress.   Steve’s fingers fussed with the button on Tony’s slacks, before deftly slipping the tiny copper nub free, the pants spilling open an inch to reveal the creamy expanse of stomach leading down from the belly button and disappearing beneath the still zipped trousers.

 

Dipping his head, Steve let his tongue dart out and catch on Tony’s navel, dragging down a few centimetres and then, simply stopping.  Tony’s hands thrust back into his hair and tried to pull him away as his lover squirmed beneath him.

 

A soft litany of “ _No, no -no- no,”_ had Steve grinning a wicked smile and knowing that this really was one case in which no truly meant _“Don’t you dare”_ – He ignored the futile grip on his hair and swirled his tongue. Then gently nibbled, before pulling back to breath cool air across slightly damp skin, worrying it with his lips.

 

Beneath him, Tony went ballistic. A broken cry of _“St- Oh my god- fuck-y!Oh! Goddamn ooh..”_ had Steve grinning, even as he gently restrained Tony’s desperately bucking form, pinning him to the bed as he continued to wreak havoc with only his tongue and a patch of skin the size of a stamp.

 

Tony tried to push up against Steve, writhing within the passion that had grasped his mind, rendering him almost incapable of thought and Steve had mercy, and with one last dart of is tongue, he pulled away.  Tony collapsed bonlessly beneath him for an instant, breathing heavily and body slightly shaky.  He glared at Steve when the blond greeted his lips with a kiss, but relaxed into it with a soft sigh. 

 

Steve pulled back and smirked as Tony shifted uneasily, the fabric of his trousers tented obscenely as he strained within the material, “You’re an asshole Steve Rogers – but I love you. Please -” He pushed up against Steve and the Captain grinned as he pressed another kiss to willing lips.  

 

Steve brushed his hands down Tony’s stomach, ignoring the squawk of protest when his fingers strayed to _that spot. A_ barely glancing touch of the uber-sensitised area enough to have Tony writhing.  The night of _that_ discovery had been _glorious._ It didn’t seem to matter how long Steve teased the sensitive patch, Tony never came - he writhed and screamed and sobbed at the pleasure, but that was it, it never fulfilled his desire.

 

Steve loved it. And secretly – so did Tony.

 

But tonight Steve moved on, his hand finding the zipper and easing it down and with a tug, he divested Tony of his pants, leaving him naked, hard and wanting beneath his lover.  Steve’s gaze was hot and possessive as it traversed down the length of Tony’s body, taking in the hooded, desire drunk brown gaze, sweat slicked skin, shadowed concaves, taught muscles and throbbing penis.

 

He was so real. So beautiful. So Steve’s.

 

His lips found Tony’s and he engaged them in a wild chase, tongue darting after tongue as he led Tony down the path of passion. Tony bucked against him with a whimper Steve swallowed when Steve’s hand grasped him fully, slick with pre-cum.  His hand was large and pale against the dusky rose of Tony’s shaft, his grip firm and strokes steady as he brought Tony to a gasping, writhing completion four nights in the making.

 

Steve felt Tony gasp as he came beneath him, his possessive, slightly domineering hold turning tender as he cradled his ecstasy-blind lover to his chest, so glad that Tony gave him this, whenever and however Steve wanted. Of course, the feeling was mutual, but Steve truly loved to see Tony come apart beneath him.

 

Several long moments later, Tony, eyes readjusting from the starburst of white that had engulfed his vision, turned from where he had tucked his head against Steve’s shoulder, and gazing up at his lover, a questioning look on his face as he noted Steve’s own erection – or lack thereof.

 

Steve just shrugged as he pulled Tony back into the cradle of his arms, “Mind is willing, Body is apparently sleep deprived – I suspect Body will be demanding you by morning. Possibly multiple times – Mind is _very_ willing _._ ” 

 

Tony, still flushed and glassy eyed with pleasure, simply snorted as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, “You – need sleep.” And he turned to pull himself from the bed, hushing a fussing Steve, before returning with a damp cloth that he used to wipe them both down.

 

Dumping the cloth back in the sink and using the toilet, Tony padded back into the bedroom, gaze lingering on Steve. The blond was sprawled on his back, propped against several pillows, his eyes hooded, looking sated and content, despite Tony having been the one satisfied.

 

The smaller man crawled across the bed, settling on his stomach between Steve’s spread legs, his chin propped on his crossed arms, propped on Steve’s chest, taking the weight of the arc-reactor.

 

He stole a kiss, before pulling back and asking “So – you didn’t miss me – a little?”

 

Steve smiled softly and stole his own kiss before answering, “Not a bit.”

 

Tony raised an eyebrow and then matter of factly added, “Liar.”

 

Steve grinned as he stole a second kiss – “Nope.”

 

“Yes. Liar, liar pants on fire – you missed me. Admit it!” Tony’s turn for a kiss.

 

Shaking his head, Steve pilled him down for a slightly longer kiss, before replying, “No”

 

Ducking his head, and peering up through fluttering eyelashes, Tony coaxed, “A little. Just a bit?”

 

Steve, already shaking his head pulled Tony down for a kiss, but Tony turned his head and tucked his face against Steve’s neck, a muffled – “Not until you tell the truth!” breathed against Steve’s neck.

 

Steve smiled softly as he seriously answered, “I have been all along. I didn’t miss you -not a little or a bit.” Tony’s face pulled away as he moved to look down at Steve with a strange mixture of expectation, amusement and just a tiny smidgen of fear – and Steve immediately added, “I missed you a whole lot more than that. I always miss you.”

 

As he spoke the words, the entire room lit up a soft arc-reactor blue, blending perfectly with the light emanating from Tony’s chest, a soft backdrop of mechanical whirr and very faint breathing accompanied it.   The room was infused with Tony, for when he couldn’t be there for Steve.

 

Silence reigned for a moment as Steve took the sight in, opened mouthed and wide eyed and finally, Tony had to prompt – “Well -?”

 

Steve grinned, pulling Tony up into a soul stealing kiss, before replying, “It’s beautiful – absolutely perfect. Although…”

 

Tony’s triumphant and affectionate grin faded as he turned back for the ‘but’.

 

“It’s not as beautiful as the real thing.”  As Steve uttered the phrase, the light show dimmed to non-existent and Steve grinned at the command codes Tony had installed.

 

Miss You

 

Real thing.

 

Tony smiled down at Steve and the blond simply smiled back, turning onto his side and dragging Tony with him, until their positions had all but reversed, Tony on his back and Steve half slung over him – one hand coming to rest on the arc reactor as he mouthed against Tony’s lips – “Not as Perfect as the real thing either.”

* * *

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Um - Author is scared because of the sexyness scene - never written one. Have no idea. Paper bag on head please.
> 
> I don't use a beta - it's just me, and while I do the best I can, mistakes inevitably escape my notice...so please, if you happen to notice a glaring spelling or grammatical error - let me know. Thanks.
> 
> * Keep an eye out for more in this series soon!
> 
> I claim nigh on zero knowledge of science or medical procedures- :)
> 
> Thanks to all who read and a huge thanks to those who take the time to comment!


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